


On the Edge of the World, Where the River Meets the Sea

by Sketchy_Skittles



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amnesia, Found Family, Friendship, Injury Recovery, Loss of Limbs, Memory Loss, Near Death Experiences, Not Beta Read, Recovery, Sibling Bonding, alot of nonsense, as per usual, but its implied and you dont see it, its like. the after effects of it, its not shown dw, object character, only recovery no hurt for yall, panic attack but only the start of one, title is from Come From Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchy_Skittles/pseuds/Sketchy_Skittles
Summary: Whatever they were laying on was soft-ish, poking at their back only slightly uncomfortably, while on top of them was something thick and a bit scratchy. Woolen, they figured, a hunch made correct when their left hand bunched up a handful of it. A wool blanket.There was also the faint buzzing feeling on the right side of their head, which they nearly overlooked. Weird.aka Mp3 wakes up somewhere unfamiliar. They're not sure what to make of it.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character
Kudos: 2





	On the Edge of the World, Where the River Meets the Sea

_ What colour is that? _

It was the first question to come to mind when they woke, greeted only by the popcorn ceiling overhead. White seemed to be a fitting word for it, they supposed, but not fitting enough. There was a slight yellowy-ness to it, maybe eggshell? But it also seemed...orange, somehow? Maybe just a bit? Some undertone of red was there too, they thought, but who would paint a ceiling orange? Or would it be called apricot at that point? Or was that putting too much emphasis on the orange part of the equation? It was mainly yellow, after all. Or mainly white. Whichever works, they figured. Regardless, it was a strange color choice for sure, at least in their eyes. Thought they supposed it could have just been the lighting in the room tinting it orange and yellow. It  _ would _ make more sense, maybe.

Which brought them to their next thought, a much more reasonable one:

_ Where exactly am I, anyway? _

The question ushered in awareness of all their other senses, which they ignored previously in favor of studying the ceiling. It was quiet, first off, with a small amount of distant chatter coming in from...somewhere, alongside music they couldn’t quite place. Relaxed, but still upbeat and fast. In truth, they couldn’t hear it well enough to place it. There was also the fact that they were  _ freezing _ , like someone dunked them in a river, not to mention the strange ache in their right arm and the general weariness that settled across them like a blanket. 

Which was odd, given that they’d just woken up.

Whatever they were laying on was soft-ish, poking at their back only slightly uncomfortably, while on top of them was something thick and a bit scratchy. Woolen, they figured, a hunch made correct when their left hand bunched up a handful of it. A wool blanket. 

There was also the faint buzzing feeling on the right side of their head, which they nearly overlooked. Weird.

Breathing deep and closing their eyes, they took in everything and tried to piece together an answer from the scraps.

  
  


…

  
  


It didn’t help. At all. The only thing it did was make them even more confused, driving them to worry as they opened their eyes again. 

_ It’s ok,  _ They reassured themselves,  _ ive just gotta look around a bit more, that’ll tell me. _

Pushing against the weariness, they began to sit up slowly, revealing off-white walls (not too unlike the ceiling) and one or two posters. Out of the corner of their eye was a window, half-opened, letting in a cool breeze

They’d pushed themselves forward, roughly halfway up, when they met resistance. Something tugged on their head, right where the buzzing feeling was, forcing them to stop. They pulled against it, stronger this time, but they still couldn’t budge any farther, restrained by the strange tether on their head. They reached for it with both hands, yet somehow neither could find it.

Their breathing quickened.

_ No no no, ok, don’t panic. Panic is bad. It’s very bad, it won’t help. _

They fell back, leaning against the pillows they’d yet to acknowledge.

_ Just retrace your steps. That’s bound to help, right? _

They thought back to what they’d been doing before they fell asleep. Or passed out. Or…whatever it was that landed them in this situation. 

  
  


_ How did I get here? _

  
  


Their head felt fuzzy. 

They gripped the blanket tight.

  
  


_ Why can’t I—  _

The door swung open with a loud creak, startling them back to the present.

“USB should really fix that. I’ve never heard a door that squeaky!”

They flinched at the foreign voice before turning right towards its source.

A young object stood in the doorway, staring at the noisy door with a slight frown. They (was that right? They couldn’t tell) were light pink and heart-shaped, with plates balanced both in their left hand and on their head. They looked towards them before brightening. 

“Oh hey, you’re up!”

Trotting fully inside, they kicked the door shut behind them.

“I thought you’d be out  _ forever _ , but SD said you had to charge first before you could wake up. I wasn’t sure if mechanical folks worked that way, but I guess he was right! And I guess  _ I _ was right in grabbing extra breakfast.”

They placed the plates on a small table beside them before sitting in a small plastic chair.

“So! What’s up with you? How’re you feeling?”

They lay for a minute, processing everything that had been thrown at them before replying,

“Confused. Why can’t I sit up?”

The stranger’s brow furrowed.

“Can’t sit up? What do you mean? Are you still hurt or something?”

_ Still? _

They pushed the thought aside.

“No, I mean, maybe?” They tried sitting up again, pulling against the restraint.

“I can’t...seem to—”

“Oh!”

The stranger leaned over and plucked something from their head. Right away the buzzing stopped and they flopped forward face-first into the blanket. Pushing themselves up, they finally came face-to-face with the offending object.

“You just got stuck on your charger!” They smiled, holding in their hand a grey wire with a small bit of metal sticking out the end. 

Finally able to sit up fully, they took in the room in full. Which, honestly, wasn’t much. It was small, with an old tv sitting on a short cabinet across from them, and a few posters of mountains scattered across the walls. The window to the left revealed a street with several shops, a few objects passing by. To the right, meanwhile, was the table, with a tiny red radio in its corner, with the stranger—watching them all the while—seated beside it, and a wooden door against the right wall. 

“Yea, it’s not super fancy, but the tvs nice. I think they’ve got some good movies too.” they reached for a piece of toast from one of the plates, taking a bite. “Somewhere.”

Their head was spinning. Nothing was making  _ any _ sense, no matter how they tried to piece it together. They watched folks pass by through the window, fidgeting with the blanket.

“...Where am I?” They asked, turning back to them, “Who are you? How did I get here?  _ Why _ am I here? What’s going on?”

“ ‘S right, I forgot!” they said, swallowing their mouthful of toast before continuing. 

“I’m Sweetheart! I’m a candy heart, though I think you knew that. I use ‘she’, by the way” 

She held out her left hand, her right holding the toast slice. They stared at it for a moment before reaching out to take it and failing, much to their surprise. 

_ What? _

They turned to their right arm, finding only a stump in its place, bandaged at the end. Their eyes widened.

_ WHAT??? _

Sweetheart blinked, realizing her mistake and pulling her hand back with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Sorry! Forgot about your arm. But who needs handshakes anyway? I only do ‘em cause my big sib Chip says it’s polite, but ze’s silly anyway.”

They hardly heard her, nearly dizzy with confusion as they stared at their missing arm. It was concerning, yea, but more worrying to them was that they couldn’t remember how they’d  _ lost it. _ They searched for any hints about their arm, their location, literally  _ anything _ that would help them make sense of what was happening. Or had happened? They weren’t sure, they  _ couldn’t  _ be sure, they wanted to be sure, but they couldn’t  _ remember, nothing was familiar, why couldn’t they  _ remember— 

“Hey,”

A hand settled on their head, pulling them from their thoughts and back towards Sweetheart.

“Are you ok? You look spooked.”

“I-I’m not— I can’t remember, I—I don’t even—”

They looked down at their lap, their only remaining hand laying in it.

“...I don’t know.”

Several seconds passed.

“It’s ok,” Sweetheart said, a hand on their shoulder “you will, don’t worry. I’ll even help you! We’ll figure this out...um… what’s your name?”

They looked to her, smiling a bit for the first time all morning.

“Mp3, I think.”

Sweetheart smiled, warm and kind.

“We’ll figure this out, Mp3, just you wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> miiiiiiiiiight add to this idk  
> comments would be swell! thanks for reading!


End file.
